Triumvirate
by EvilQuarantine
Summary: Rhaegar survives and Jon Snow is born Visenya Targaryen, the legitimized bastard of King Rhaegar and the last head of the dragon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Property of R.R Martin. This fic is just for fun.**

* * *

VISENYA

Pain shot through Visenya's right arm as she tried to block an overhead swing head on. On retrospect, it was not the brightest idea but who could blame her for not thinking through. It took all her will not to let the practise sword drop from her hand even if it felt like jelly.

"If it were Dawn, you'd be dead," Jaime taunted with that infuriating smirk of his.

 _Yes, yes, Dawn this, Dawn that._

"If you were serious, I'd be dead too." Visenya hissed through gritted teeth, trying to will her arm into working order.

"Just so."

They took their stances for another bout. Visenya elected to grip her sword with both hands. The blunted steel was a gift from her uncle Eddard, a bastard sword with a large enough hilt for two hands when Visenya needed to. It was fashioned after Ice, the Valyrian great sword of House Stark. Jaime only had a blunted long sword but no shield.

Visenya tried again. Her reach was limited this time but her strikes were more forceful with both hands behind it. It matters not apparently since Jaime blocked, parried and dodged all her attempts with an unfaltering smirk.

"Easy now, I'm not the prince," Jaime warned when Visenya's strikes were getting erratic and desperate despite herself.

" _Fuck the prince_ ," Visenya hissed.

"Eager, aren't we?"

" _Fuck you!_ " Vis panted out as she raised her sword for a glorious finishing blow. Jaime dodged it easily and drove his gauntleted fist into her stomach. It knocked the air out of her lungs and her practice sword clattered on the ground. The squires scurried about, not quite sure what to do with the injured princess kneeling on the dirt. Beside them, Robb finished his practice with Ser Arthur. Robb laid her down on the dirt and unlaced her leather armor with deft fingers and poured cold water on her stomach. Visenya could feel the squires blushing at the exposed princess but she paid them no mind.

"Lord Robb, would you kindly assist her highness to the benches?" It was Ser Arthur's own way of humoring Visenya and Robb with official titles even when Robb served as the knight's squire for the last couple of years.

Robb took Visenya to the benches and handed her a glass of iced lemon water.

"Three to two in Ser Arthur's favor this week." Robb informed. All the knights stopped their practice and the squires stopped their scampering when Jaime and Ser Arthur took to the practice yard. Jaime pulled out his golden sword from its scabbard and Ser Arthur received a silver great sword from Robb.

"Five stags on Ser Arthur." Robb whispered. All around, knights and squires placed their own bets.

"I shall take you up on that offer." Visenya replied, not daring to take her eyes of the legendary knights as they circled each other. Then they clashed.

No dance or performance could even come close to witnessing the Lion of Lannister and the Sword of the Morning class with live steel. Jaime's golden sword had the shorter reach but he made up for it with speed and agility the older knight did not possess. Nevertheless, Ser Arthur matched him blow for blow with skills honed over decades. Jaime and Ser Arthur knew everything about themselves, about their swords and about each other. It was like a coin toss really, but far more exciting.

Visenya released a breath she did not know she was holding when Jaime disarmed Ser Arthur. throat. Robb grumbled as Jaime bowed to Visenya after helping Ser Arthur up.

Visenya spars with Robb next but barely works up a sweat when Dany intrudes the training yard with her flowery ladies and whisks Visenya away. Only then Visenya allows herself to think about the coming reunion that she hoped to put off for a century.

* * *

"Keep still," chastises Dany as she attempts to untangle her dark hair. Visenya doesn't understand what joy Dany could possibly find in bathing and washing Visenya herself. Her dark hair was cut short, not even covering her neck properly. But Dany treats her like a little sister although she is slightly older and taller by far.

"They won't hate you," Dany answers a question Visenya did not voice, but her voice wavers.

"Dear aunt, they already do."

Dany inhales sharply, she hates it when Visenya calls her anything but Dany; and Visenya knows that she's wrong to condemn her aunt for getting along well with Aegon and Rhaenys. Perhaps it would have be better to have Dany hate her like all the other Targaryens do. All except father.

The rest of the bath is completed in heavy silence and Visenya leaves before Dany is quite finished. Her dress for the reception is all white with red accents. Red and white were always her colors, and she wears them often when dresses are mandatory for this event or another.

Jaime is already waiting by Dany's chambers in the Maidenvault when Visenya comes out. He holds a ceremonial dagger that she likes to wear with her dresses, much to the chagrin of the ladies. But father approves of it and it's all that matters. In fact, the dagger was a gift from father for her thirteenth nameday and Visenya has cherished it ever since. The blade, hilt and sheath were completely black and it bore a one-headed dragon sigil in red. Father sent similar daggers to both Rhaenys and Aegon, each with different dragon sigil. Visenya clasps the dagger to her belt and heads for father's solar with Jaime two paces behind.

Both Baratheon and Lannister men stood with Ser Arthur and Ser Balon at the doors to the king's solar. Jaime joined them when Visenya stepped inside.

Her father was sitting behind his desk with Lords Stannis and Tywin in front of him. His indigo eyes look over her appreciatively when she enters the solar. Her kingly father was easy to please. Little things like naming her horse Vhagar or naming her dagger Dark Sister pleased him greatly.

"Dear father, my lords." Visenya greeted and kissed her father's cheek lightly and turned to greet the lords.

"Princess," Lords Tywin and Stannis greeted in unison.

"Visenya, Lord Lannister's granddaughter Lady Myrcella and Lord Stannis' daughter Lady Shireen will stay in court after the wedding to serve as your ladies in waiting. I trust you have no objections on the matter?"

What she needs are squires and horse handlers not ladies.

"Of course not, father. I have heard nothing but high praises of Lady Shireen's gentle nature and Lady Myrcella's beauty and grace. I am sure they will be a great comfort to me," Visenya lies smoothly. Gossip about ladies is the furthest thing from her mind at any given time. Father knows and smiles. Any child of Cersei and Jaime is bound to be beautiful and greyscale survivors can only be meek or mad.

Father and the lords speak some more on the royal fleet, trade with Essos, taxes and other matters. Visenya serves them wine in her capacity as the king's cupbearer. She listens in but says nothing.

"Ladies in waiting? Was that wise, father?" Visenya asks once the lords leave.

"Once Aegon arrives, he will expect to attend court and small council meetings as you do now and he may not take kindly to you doing the he is the Crown Prince and so he must learn."

 _And you must gossip with the ladies and sew with the septas_ , Visenya thinks bitterly. Maybe her face betrayed her bitterness because father soothes her as he does so well.

"You will always be my favorite, sweet child, my Visenya," Father admits with surprising ease and he pauses before saying, "Do you know why so few Targaryen princesses were named Visenya?"

"They feared her reputation, father. My namesake was not the most forgiving woman."

"No, sweet child, when our ancestors conquered Westeros, they adopted its traditions as well. The notion that only a man can rule is Westerosi, not Valyrian. Man or woman, it mattered not when you were perched atop a dragon," father said, "There have been only three 'Visenya' in our line so far. Only Princess Rhaenyra, the Half Year Queen, was brave enough to name one of her daughters Visenya."

Visenya knew better to state that Rhaenys would come first or that the blood of Old Valyria and its customs meant little now since the dragons are gone. She only nodded and father continued.

"Should Aegon prove unable or uninterested, it will be up to you to rule in his name like the first Visenya did for the first Aegon. If Aegon is proves himself able, you shall still rule together like Jaehaerys and Good Queen Alysanne. You, Aegon and Rhaenys are the three heads of the dragon, destined for greatness in the wake of the Long Night," father spoke with the same fervor septons use in their sermons and the gleam in his indigo eyes made her shudder ever so slightly.

Visenya could easily imagine herself a second Rhaenyra and Aegon the Sixth could very well be Aegon the Second. It would be another Dance of the Dragons.

Visenya had thought long and hard before coming to the conclusion that she _really did_ want the Iron Throne, _the throne that father has groomed her for_. It scared her that she did not know what she would do if Aegon spurns her in favor of only Rhaenys or some other woman. _Would she be content as a princess or would she fight?_ Visenya hoped it would not come to that.

"Come, sweet child. I have something for you."

Father beckons and Visenya follows him to his bedchambers. On the bed lies father's black doublet with the Targaryen sigil embroidered in extreme detail. On the bedside table, lies two crowns. The king's crown is that of Maeker the First. It was a large warlike golden crown with seven sharp black iron points. Beside it was a another crown, smaller. It was entirely black iron, fashioned after intertwined trees and vines. The seven tendril-like spikes were even longer than father's crown. The crown had a certain wildness to it and was breathtakingly beautiful.

"Do you like it?" Father asks although the answer is obvious.

"Thank you, father," Visenya breathes out as the tip of the iron spikes send shivers up her arms when she touches one.

It is a Queen's crown and Queen she shall be.

* * *

After four bitter years of staying under the same roof as the Queen and her children, Visenya did not need to fake her smile when she saw them off for their long journey to Dorne.

That was four years ago. Now, she could not even fake a smile when seven pairs of black eyes glare daggers at her from the moment they entered the Throne room. Robb prickles behind her but Visenya calms him with a look.

"His highness, Crown Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen," the herald declares as a man in a violet doublet - much like father - walks hand in hand with Rhaenys. Aegon has changed a lot, clearly favoring father's structure and coloring. He no longer matched Visenya's memory of a spiteful, little, pudgy boy that echoed whatever insult his mother or sister had for Visenya. Rhaenys was much the same, taller and darker but still hateful.

"Father," They greeted as they bowed before the king on his throne.

"Come Aegon, Rhaenys." Father beckoned and they climbed up the steps of the dais. He stands up from the throne and embraced them awkwardly. Father's chest still hurt from when Robert Targaryen hammered him within an inch of his life so many years ago.

"Meet you sister."

Aegon and Rhaenys are… courteous. Visenya approaches them and pecks Rhaenys on the cheek and gives Aegon her hand which he presses his lips to. They say nothing and Visenya manages a small smile. Aegon smiles back but Rhaenys is impassive.

Princes Oberyn, Quentyn and Tristane are introduced to court next, followed by Princess Arianne and the Sand Snakes. They all would stay for Visenya's name day, followed by Aegon's and then the eventual wedding in three months. Visenya retreats to her seat next to the Iron Throne with Aegon and Rhaenys and stays silent as other Dornish lords are introduced. Aegon and Rhaenys whisper something to each other, shoots her a look and giggles quietly. Daenerys finds them and gossips like fishwives..

"You know, if looks could kill…" Robb whispers in her ear and she follows his gaze to the Martells and company.

"Then snakes wouldn't need fangs, would they?" Visenya whispers back and sighs. It would be a long three months.

The court drags on for hours. Aegon openly yawns when the dancers dance to some Dornish rhythms and then to some Northern tunes. Visenya pulls away Robb as soon as it is proper for a princess to go missing. Jaime doesn't follow her, he can't break the Kingsguard formation beside the Iron Throne.

Much of the Castle is empty and they leave for the godswood on foot.

"He's following you." Robb says with amusement in his voice.

"Don't look back."

Robb grins and releases her hand only to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her close, possessively. Visenya chuckles as they continue into the godswood.

They continue until there is no way to tell which way the city is through the dense trees. "Should we set the wolves on him?" Robb grins.

"Wait and watch," she says and immediately wargs into Ghost. The direwolf was watching Aegon from the rear and Visenya directs him to the hidden prince. There is a scream and a thud, and Visenya is herself again.

Robb is already helping up Aegon who eyes Ghost warily. Visenya says nothing as she stands beside Robb.

"Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell. Pleasure to meet you, your highness." Robb introduces himself, his voice light and friendly.

"The pleasure is all mine, my lord," Aegon replies automatically. "Is it yours, Lord Stark?"

"Ghost is our friend, but he gets along best with me." Visenya says as she runs her fingers through Ghost's snow-white fur. Ghost has grown up to her shoulders, a great deal larger than any wolf.

"Do wolves really grow so large, Vi- my lady?" Aegon asks, his hesitation to call her by her name is oddly endearing. Robb snickers.

"He's a direwolf. They grow even larger, my prince." She replies, smiling a bit.

"Truly a magnificent beast." Aegon says in a daze and reaches out to touch Ghost. But Ghost steps back and disappears in seconds.

"Now you've scared him," Visenya says. Aegon laughs in his melodic voice, the way Visenya imagines father would laugh. Robb laughs too and Visenya allows herself a smile.

The laughter dies down and Aegon watches her with barely concealed lust. His violet eyes are heavy-lidded and dark with desire. Visenya wonders if Lyanna Stark really did seduce her father because it seemed tempting dragon princes come naturally to wolf maids.

* * *

 **Highly recommend Lost Girl by prussianblues and Heads of the Dragon by TheEagleGirl to anyone who enjoyed this fanfiction. They introduced to the absolute joy that is Jon "Visenya" Snow.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I really didn't want to do this. I would have preferred to tell it in story but that would take a long time. So here I go.**

 **In asoiaf lore, the battle between Robert and Rhaegar wasn't close. Although an excellent jouster, Rhaegar was no Arthur Dayne. He just wouldn't come out alive without outside help (of Ser Barristan in this story). So backstory wise: Ned Stark finds the dying Rhaegar and takes him prisoner. With Robert dead, Stannis would be their Iron Throne claimant but no one would follow Stannis. The rebels are technically victors but they can't rule without Targaryens. Visenya was to be made queen but Rhaegar twists this into a triple marriage.**

 **If anyone is expecting smutty threesomes or fluff, please stop reading this now.**

 **Anything else, I'll tell it through the story**.

* * *

AEGON

 _"The dragon has three heads," the woman before Aegon whispered. Dark hair, grey eyes and blood running down her groins and legs. But she's smiling, grinning, joyous and victorious._

 _"I had no choice," says a man beside the woman. It was Rhaegar, his father. He held a babe wrapped in red and white silk with a large golden crown on its head._

 _"You had a choice. You chose her." Aegon's voice is not his own, it's his mother's. Aegon looks down and sees himself as a child in his mother's bosom. Rhaenys is holding her left arm, weeping. Mother waits for an answer but Rhaegar says nothing._

 _She has given me my dragon; my queen; my greatest song," says Rhaegar and holds the crowned babe up to the sky. The crown catches a ray of sun even in the darkness and shines like the heavens._

 _You shall all bow," Rhaegar commands. Mother screams and Aegon wails. Rhaenys weeps tears of blood._

 _You shall all bend," Rhaegar commands again. The babe's eyes open and they are indigo, like Rhaegar's. Mother is forced to her knees by some otherworldly force. Rhaenys falls over and is motionless._

 _You shall all break." There is a sickening crunch and the world goes dark._

The sun peers through the cracks in the wood and Aegon wonders when exactly he started calling his father _Rhaegar_.

"You're awake." Rhaenys says without turning from her mirror. His sister is the vision of beauty and Aegon feels his manhood stir at the sight of her exposed back. Her inky black hair is straight and adorned by golden ornaments and thin golden chains that Aegon has no name for.

"You should have woken me," Aegon complains as he yawns the last of his sleep away. Rhaenys turns and her violet eyes are full of mirth. "You had a long night," she says simply.

Aegon gets up and wraps his arms around Rhaenys' waist before she can even react. "So did you."

Arianne finds them like this and wrinkles her nose. As open as Dornish are about sex, they are not open to incest.

"Get dressed, Aegon. We are about to dock," Arianne commands, something she does a lot. Aegon does not mind as much as Rhaenys does. He lets the Princess play her games and does not care to remind her that those are just that, _games._

Aegon gets dressed in a violet doublet with Targaryen symbols and the like. His silver hair is straight like his sister's and falls up to his neck like a mane. He puts his boots on, straps his sword belt to his waist and attaches an ornamental sword to his waist.

Only after all is said and done, Aegon thinks about the bastard half-sister for whom Rhaegar shipped off his trueborn children to Dorne.

* * *

 _Wildling, bitch, whore, temptress, seductress, tomboy and wolf-bitch._

Lyanna Stark had more monikers in Dorne than the King of Westeros himself. She was never described as lethal or dangerous. But those are exactly the words for Visenya Targaryen. She's straight as a sword and gives off an aura of danger. The Sand Snakes were dangerous too, yes, but not this way. While theirs was a deadliness of shadows and poisons, Visenya Targaryen possessed the spirit of ice and iron _, fire and blood_.

Her skin was cold to the touch but her dark eyes burned right through him. Her dress is red and white, a kind of frilly frock that left her legs exposed almost up to her knees. Her crown is completely black with long twisted spikes that rise high from her dark hair. Aegon recognizes the black dagger that Rhaegar gifted his children. A comely young man with curly red hair and the infamous Kingslayer hover behind her as she sits beside Aegon and Rhaenys after introductions are complete.

"Do you think she fucks them both at the same time?" Rhaenys whispers to him.

" _I know you would_ ," Aegon replies and they both giggle. But his fists are clenched for reasons unknown.

Visenya leaves quietly as the court drags on, leading the young man by the arm. Aegon follows despite Rhaenys' disapproving gaze. He can't help himself.

Her half-sister is a woman of little word. Her laugh is not lady-like at all; in fact, it's some strange concoction of a chuckle and a grunt. She's also _very observant_. She sends the Stark heir away before Aegon can think of a good reason to do so.

She extends her hand and Aegon takes it. She walks and he follows. Not caring if they're going deeper or back to the keep. Aegon stares constantly at her dark eyes, red lip and her pale face. He compares every little thing to those of Rhaenys and other women he's known.

 _By the gods, has he ever been so mad with lust without the slightest provocation?_ He's bedded woman before, lots of them; Rhaenys, Arianne, Nymeria, Tyene and other women, both highborn and common folk. Now they all seem like variations of the same Dornish woman. _Maybe that's it._ Maybe it's her difference; her absolute contrast to everything Aegon has ever known that attracts him. _Or maybe he's just mad as Rhaegar, mad for some wolf cunt._

"Do you want to say something, my prince?" Visenya asks once the trees thin out and the keep is visible. She looks on ahead. They've been walking in circles because it's dusk now.

"You look magnificent, princess," Aegon compliments. Visenya turns towards him and smiles ever so slightly. They are at the Red Keep now.

"As do you, my prince."

And then she's gone.

* * *

He wants to fuck her, his little bastard half-sister with sharp eyes and small smiles. Aegon makes an excuse and leaves the nightly feast early. He takes one last look of Visenya and memorizes her face. A cloaked Ser Oswell shadows him as Aegon makes his way to the brothels in the city. He finds a young whore with brown hair and brown eyes and fucks her from behind for all he's worth. Aegon couldn't go to Rhaenys, Arianne or all the other usual ladies. No, tonight he needs a _blank canvas_. He closed his eyes and moans her name over and over like a prayer. _Visenya, Visenya, Visenya..._

Ser Oswell has surely heard it all from outside the door but Aegon couldn't care less. After spilling his seed, Aegon sinks into a chair behind him and coherent thoughts form in his mind for the first time since seeing Visenya in the throne room earlier that day.

The whore looks back, her face flushed and awestruck. The brothel owner, a man they call Littlefinger, materializes with an ingratiating smile and vials of moon tea. The whore drinks it silently and retreats to another chamber.

"I don't need to remind you-"

" _Of course not, your highness,"_ Littlefinger cuts in, "Anonymity is number one priority in my establishments."

"And the whore?"

"She won't say anything and on my word, she will not carry your babe. You may hold me to my word; the whore shall stay in King's Landing for the entire year if you wish it, your highness."

"And what she heard?"

"She heard _nothing_ , you highness, although…" Littlefinger's tone was conspiring, "It's not often a man comes to my establishments and seeks his betrothed through my ladies."

"Say what you have to say," Aegon says angrily.

"No offense, your highness. It would be… _unseemly_ if the Faith gets word that the upcoming marriage is not only a father's madness but also the son's desire," Littlefinger says. Anger flares inside Aegon and in an instant he has Littlefinger against the wall with Aegon's hand around his throat. Ser Oswell enters immediately at the commotion but stays his sword.

" _I am a dragon_ ," Aegon whispers menacingly, " _Gossips and whispers are no concern of mine_."

"Of course, but these times are _precarious_ …" Littlefinger wheezes out and Aegon lets him down. Ser Oswell steps outside after he ascertains there is no danger.

 _Say what you have to say."_

"I can help you, your highness. Your royal father only tolerates my establishments for his men, he thinks brothels are beneath his attention," Littlefinger explains.

"And you think otherwise?"

"Oh yes, certainly. And especially when the High Septon himself is my customer along with numerous high ranking members of the clergy."

Aegon wasn't a simpleton to think that septons honored their vows any more than Dornish women honored their husbands. But one would think septons would make do with the septas or the silent sisters and not take to visiting public whorehouses.

"And you have proof? Proof of the impressive list of customers that you claim to have?"

"Any of your trusted men can verify my claims with his own eyes, your highness. And holy men, _especially drunk, old ones,_ ramble a lot about their plans to the groins of whores," Littlefinger sweetens his deal.

Aegon thinks for a moment _. The Crown Prince employs a brothel owner to spy on people of the faith to safeguard his triple marriage to his sisters_. The accusation is ridiculous enough for Aegon to get away with it, if he gets caught in the first place.

"What do you want?"

"You are the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, your highness. I ask only that you remember me," Littlefinger replies. _He wants it all_ , Aegon knows. His eyes are much like Arianne's, dark and poisonous.

Aegon nods slowly and gets up. He buttons up his doublet and produces two golden dragons from his pocket. Only the finest virgins are worth a golden dragon, but Aegon wanted a fresh canvas tonight, not a sobbing girl.

"I can't possibly charge -" But one looks from Aegon shuts him up.

"I don't trust men who want nothing," Aegon says, "It often means they desire that which is unspeakable."

Littlefinger accepts the coin wordlessly and sees Aegon out into the stinking night air of King's Landing.

* * *

Visenya does not seek him out and by noon of the fifth day, Aegon scours the Keep for his bastard half-sister. No one can seem to tell exactly where the royal princess is. The Kingslayer is gone too, so is the Sword of the Morning and the Stark.

Aegon makes his way to Varys' chambers. Aegon has a thousand reasons ready but the Spider asks for none.

"The princess is in Flea Bottom, feeding the orphans most probably," Varys informs to a flabbergasted Aegon.

"Does the King know of this?" Aegon bellows, slamming his fist on the Spider's table with fury unknown.

"It is His Grace's idea, but fear not, the princess is protected by two Kingsguard and Stark men-at-arms, the Stark heir is with her."

 _Rhaegar wants to rob the septons of their pious sheep with food_. Good idea, but there's no reason for a princess and the heir of a Lord Paramount to do it personally.

"The princess could get sick!"

Varys' smile is genuine and reaches his violet eyes. " _That's what we all tell her_ ," he says.

Aegon is off to the stables and gets on whatever horse he finds saddled. No time for stuttering stable boys.

"We should assemble an escort of men, your highness," Ser Oswell warns as he gets on a horse too.

Don't worry, I'll keep you safe," Aegon smirks and tips his sword hilt towards the knight.

Ser Oswell says nothing but mutters " _Cheeky little bastard_." under his breath. Aegon laughs and then they are off to the shittiest part of the shittiest city.

Visenya, for her part, is easy to find. There are about twenty men with direwolf sigils standing outside a rundown building in Flea bottom. Workers shove the shit off the streets into huge piles beside the roads. Carts take the filth to god-knows-where. The stench is indescribable and Aegon may just fall off his horse.

"Take a deep breath." orders Ser Oswell, "This is what your kingdom smells like."

Aegon does so and breathing becomes easier, although he may still puke at any moment. The Stark men tense at his approach but relax when they recognize him. They mumble " _my prince_ ," or " _your highness_ ,' with a thick accent that is surely Northern.

Visenya is inside the building, an orphanage run by the Faith. She wears a black leather jerkin and matching breeches. Her pales arms and legs are in full view. She has no crown, she doesn't need one, but there's a sword by her waist in a black sheath. Her face is serious as Visenya studies the orphans minutely, running her hands on their gaunt faces. Robb Stark is there too, smiling and serving broth to the orphans. Ser Arthur and the Kingslayer stand like pillars behind the princess, eying everything cautiously.

The orphans scatter when they see the crown prince. Visenya looks up and frowns at him but says nothing, the orphans are too scared to whisper or even move. Aegon can find nothing to say and simply stares at his frowning half-sister.

The awkwardness is alleviated when a cart full of toys enter the orphanage. Visenya goes to the cart and picks up a toy; a wooden knight with no color. She hands it to a boy at random and picks up another one, this time a wooden harp. She plays it for a moment, tunes it and hands it to a girl.

Aegon walks to the cart and picks up a toy horse which he hands to a boy. Visenya eyes him suspiciously but doesn't stop handing out toys herself. This goes on in tense silence until there are only ten toys left on the rather large cart.

These toys are the only ones with color. Five are red dragons with black beady eyes while the rest are white wolves with red eyes. These ten toys are smaller but built much better than the rest, with the detailed carvings of scales and furs and nails and teeth. The colors are bright and lustrous. Aegon wishes he could take a pair of them.

Visenya picks out the youngest orphans from the group and lines up ten of them. She hands the toys to them one by one, ruffling each one's hair with a sad smile on her face.

" _The smallest children have the largest dreams,_ " she whispers to him and Aegon wanted to kiss the sorrow out of her sad smile and sad eyes.

The spell of silence to breaks and the children are raucous again. The boys battle with their knights and horses while the girls fawn over the prince and the princess. The children who received the colored toys clutch them to their chests while the others want a look. Visenya sits on the empty cart and Aegon props down beside her. They watch the children.

"Who made those toys?" Aegon asks, genuinely curious.

" _It's a secret_ ," Visenya replies with mischief in her voice.

"I'll tell you my secret and you tell me yours," Aegon offers.

"But it doesn't-"

"I'm not as stupid as you think I am," Aegon cuts in. Visenya doesn't expect that. Her eyebrows are raised and her smile is happier now.

"Sound like what a stupid person would say," she replied and they both laugh.

"Your turn."

"I made them. I used to do it in Winterfell when I was fostered there. I stopped after coming to King's Landing but picked it up again when Robb brought some weirwood during his last trip North," Visenya says with a wistful look on her face.

"You're really good."

"Thanks."

And they are silent once more, but it is not so tense this time. The orphan girl with the harp tries to play something on it but the harp screeches like a wounded dog. The girl is about to cry when Visenya steps in and takes the harp from the child. The children hush each other when the princess starts to play.

 _Brave Danny Flint._

Visenya sings softly, with a halfpenny wooden harp and the voice of an angel. The orphan girl weeps silently and so do all the other children. The younger ones, who are too young to understand the lyrics, cry too. Visenya's dark eyes are glossy.

"Where did you learn to sing like that?" Aegon whispers, his eyes sting with tears too, but not for Danny Flint.

"Another secret for another time," she replies.

* * *

 **LYRICS OF BRAVE DANNY FLINT**

watch?v=hl-uI1yEqaE

Hear you now the sad lament

Of Brave Young Danny Flint

Whose parents died of sickness

When she was not but ten.

So off Young Danny went to live

With her wicked uncle

Who one night stole her maidenhead

So into the North she fled.

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape

The Fate the Gods have written

And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

North she fled to take the Black

And leave her troubles past

She cut her hair and changed her name

To Danny Flint the Brave.

At the NightFort Danny took the oath

Thought a boy by all

And she hoped to live forever

As a Brother upon the Wall.

Oh Danny Flint you'll never escape

The Fate the Gods have written

And life must seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

Now Danny was so diligent

To keep from watchful stares

But one night as she bathed

Her Brothers saw her body bare.

These men were quick to break their vows

As they threw her to the ground

They took her honor then her life

While Danny made not a sound.

Oh Danny Flint there's no escape

The Fate the Gods have written

And life does seem the cruelest jape

Oh Brave Young Danny Flint.

It is said Young Danny still yet walks

The NightFort's shadowy halls

A pale form singing sorrowfully

The loneliest, saddest song.

* * *

 **Fanfic recommendation: the ghosts won't matter cause we'll hide in sin by soapboxblues ( )**

 **I would also appreciate if you guys give me some feedback on the characters of Aegon and Visenya as you see them. I don't need tips and suggestions, just describe their characters if you can.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Property of R.R. Martin**

* * *

VISENYA

The days rolled on and the Visenya's name-day was only a week away, followed by the tourney and the wedding in a fortnight. In the two months that Aegon has arrived in King's Landing, they have fallen into a kind of routine. Sword practice in the morning and touring the city and charity work at noon, followed by daily feasts in the Great Hall to welcome the lords that poured into the city for the wedding. Uncle Eddard could not make it but his children Brandon, Sansa and Arya are here with a retinue of Stark men. Visenya gets on fabulously with Arya and Bran but Sansa is quickly recruited by Rhaenys and her poisonous ilk.

Spears were the weapon of choice of Oberyn Martell and it's no surprise that his squire Aegon would prefer the same.

"Four in favor of Visenya, one for Aegon." Robb declares from his bench as Visenya disarms Aegon third time in a row. Visenya is fast as the wind when she closes the gap between her and Aegon after a missed thrust by the latter.

"Like I said, what type of gentleman would I be if I injure my betrothed with _my spear_ before the wedding night?" Aegon smirks as Robb bursts into laughter and Ser Oswell guffaws.

"One that doesn't lose to a girl of four and ten," Visenya counters through her blush. They're still close, with Visenya's sword at Aegon's throat.

Aegon brings his hand up and caresses her face. His smirk is absolutely infuriating.

"I don't see you as a _girl_ , my lady," Aegon says in a husky voice.

"Hold on, I'm going to be sick," Robb jokes and fakes vomiting noises.

Arya runs into the yard before Visenya can think of a good rebuttal. She's dressed in dirt stained tunics and breeches, courtesy of Visenya herself. Her boyish face is wrought with worry. She glances towards Aegon, Ser Oswell and Jaime.

"You can trust them, Arya. They're my friends," Visenya offers.

Arya deliberates for a moment before saying, "It's Bran. They have him! _The Martells!_ "

Arya has picked up on Visenya's dislike for the Dornish and both Aegon and Ser Oswell chuckle at the way Arya spits the name.

"Why would they _have_ him, Arya?" Robb asks.

"He was… umm… _visiting_ the Maidenvault last night," Arya confesses, biting her lips.

"Mother warned him not to climb the towers in King's Landing, Arya. _And you were supposed to watch him_! Both of you promised mother, have you forgotten?"

"Ugh! That's not important right now. The Martells were plotting with an old man late at night. They called him the High Sparrow. Bran and I saw them and they saw us!" Arya was hysteric at this point. Surprisingly it was Aegon who stepped up to the girl.

"Are you absolutely sure, my lady?" He asks.

"Yes! The Red Viper saw us and grabbed Bran but I ran. I hid in a secret passage and waited for morn. Then I came to get Visenya and Robb," Arya explains in a rush. "And I'm not a lady."

"Smart girl," mutters Aegon before he looks up at Visenya. Visenya already knew about the new septon that dresses in tattered grey robes and collects the more fanatical followers into his personal army. It seems Aegon knew about him too.

* * *

Robb stays behind with Arya after Visenya promises to return Bran unhurt. She makes her way to the Maidenvault with Aegon, Jaime and Ser Oswell. The Martells have been given quarters there and Dany's chambers were moved beside those of Visenya, Aegon and Rhaenys in the Red Keep, although Rhaenys kept to the Maidenvault with the Martells.

Bran is there, scared and stricken on the lap of none other than Nymeria Sand. Sansa is there too, embroidering with Tyene while Rhaenys and Arianne sip on wine. Oberyn is leaning against a wall, twirling a knife casually and Ser Lewyn lays reclined in a chair near the balcony with a sword by his side.

Bran runs to Visenya, hugs her and hides behind her; all before anyone can utter a single word.

"Back to your scheming ways, dear cousin?" Aegon asks with a mocking smile.

"Whatever do you mean, your highness?" Arianne replies just as sweetly.

"Finally doing away with your philandering ways, are you? I have heard a septon of all things graced your chambers last night."

"Varys' little birds told you that?"

"A wolf cub told me that," Aegon corrects.

Oberyn laughs from the back and stares at Bran who's hiding behind Visenya, making the young Stark squirm.

"There was another one! Clever boy, he did not admit it to the end! It seems Starks are very loyal to their own," Oberyn says with amusement.

"If you threatened my ki-" Visenya warns but Oberyn cuts her off. "I did no such thing; I may have told him a story or two."

"I have no wish to fight you on this, uncle. I demand to know why the High Sparrow was here, it is an order from your prince." Aegon's voice was not impertinent; rather it held an authority Visenya did not know he possessed.

" _Oh please,_ brother, Arianne and uncle are faultless. I summoned the septon," Rhaenys speaks for the first time, "I summoned him to undo our dear father's folly. An incestuous marriage of three people with no rhyme or reason! The King is _mad_ , only his is a more subtle strain of madness."

"You cannot do that. To go against the King's order is treason!" Aegon replies hotly.

"Treason? Treason? Are you going to hide behind father now? You think I don't see the way you look at that bastard? You want this, don't you? After everything they have done to our mother, all it takes is a Northern cunt to betray your kin?" Rhaenys yells, shaking with anger.

" _You will not call her that_ ," Aegon says threateningly. He rests his hand on the sword at his waist. Everybody is tense; Oberyn and Ser Lewyn are standing up now, eyes trained dangerously on Jaime and Ser Oswell.

"I will call her what she is: _a conniving whore, a treacherous bastard!_ And you were stupid enough to fall for her ruse."

"Why you-"

" _Enough!_ " Ser Gerold Hightower bellows from behind. Everyone turns to see the aged Lord Commander standing at the door.

"Princess Visenya, Princess Rhaenys, Prince Aegon. His grace demands your presence in his solar _now_ ," the old knight says in a voice that barters no argument.

* * *

Father is furious. His sword hand opens and closes. He might as well strangle Rhaenys then and there.

"You've dishonored my mother! Discarded us for a bastard!" Rhaenys rages and ignores the said _bastard_ who's sitting next to her, "And now you expect Aegon to fuck her as you did your wolf bitch?"

Father is unimpressed. "Aegon will do as I tell him."

Rhaenys pleads Aegon with her eyes but he's silent.

" _Fine!"_ she huffs, "Fuck the bastard, Aegon. But you won't have me. I leave for Dorne today!"

Father looks at Visenya and nods. Aegon is curious and Rhaenys, murderous. _She's jealous_ , Visenya realizes.

Visenya walks towards the painting of the Field of Fire on a wall in father's solar. She removed it and opens the safe underneath with a key that she always keeps on person. The smell of rotting flesh assails her immediately and Rhaenys chokes behind her.

She pulls it out with her bare hands and lays it on the desk. The offensive smell is outdone only by the offending sight.

It's a black severed arm that crawls with its bony fingers, leaving strains of rotting flesh on the desk.

"The dragon has three heads," father says triumphantly. He's so pleased in fact that he could kiss the severed hand- the confirmation of his prophecy.

Aegon vomits and Rhaenys faints.

* * *

Aegon pulls her into a corridor after they leave father's solar. The Kingsguard are busy tending to the fainted princess, granting Aegon and Visenya some privacy.

"I still don't understand why I must marry both you and Rhaenys. Why can't it just be you?"

To her own surprise, Visenya wraps her arms around Aegon's neck and pulls him down for a kiss. Aegon is startled for a moment before he deepens the kiss. It's her first but Aegon knows what he's doing.

"I don't know what it is; war, assassination, childbirth or something else entirely. Father has never talked about this topic to me," Visenya admits, "Whatever it is, I do know that between Rhaenys and I, only one of us will survive."

That's why father can never meet her eyes when she's smiling, when she's happy about something.

 _He feels guilty, He knows I will die._

* * *

It's Visenya's name day and Aegon gifts her a chest of jewels from the Free Cities and a caravan of food in front of the people of King's Landing. She graciously accepts and promises to donate the entirety of it. It was a stroke of genius on Aegon's part to make a show of charity.

Rhaenys has been delirious for five days after her fainting, waking periodically and muttering about blue eyes and death. She is not able to attend Visenya's name day. It doesn't matter however, Arianne gifts her a set of poisoned daggers on behalf of Rhaenys, Elia and all the other Dornish bitches. She receives gifts from Lord Arryn, Lord Stannis, Lord Edmure Tully and Robb, none of which are especially noteworthy. The most ostentatious gift by far is a life-sized gold statue of the first Visenya with a sculpted dragon on her shoulder, courtesy of Lord Tywin.

Uncle Viserys gives her two ' _freed'_ pleasure slaves from Lys, 'to show her what it means to have the blood of Old Valyria'. Aegon slaps Viserys hard enough to draw blood. His lady wife Margaery and good Lord Tyrell apologize profusely for the King's forgiveness. They had no idea that Viserys would use Tyrell gold to procure pleasure slaves. Margaery gifts her a fine black gown with red roses and dragons, much like the ones she wears now.

Father gives her a kiss on the forehead and a new crown much like the one for Aegon's reception. Instead of black tendrils, there are seven long ice-like shards. Visenya has more crowns than father by now.

Ser Jaime wins the tourney and crowns her Queen of Love and Beauty. She wears the crown of blue winter roses to the feast that goes deep into the night.

Aegon has another gift for her, which he saves until late into the night when the feast is all but done.

He sneaks into her room on the hour of the ghost, rousing her from her light sleep. King's Landing is far too hot for blankets and Visenya usually sleeps in a simple nightgown. Aegon staggers towards her and kneels beside the bed. Visenya perches up on her arm and meets his gaze. He hesitates for a moment before reaching out and touching her face ever go gently, as if she were a mirage.

"You have no misgivings about this?" He asks. His fingers brushed past her lips.

 _The first time father told me of my duty, I wrote a letter to Uncle Eddard to come save me._

"I trust father," she says simply.

"Father!" he scoffs, "Don't you see what he did? He shamed my mother and killed yours! How can you-"

"Father has never once been wrong, Aegon. He knew of the wights and the Others since he was a child. How can you doubt him after what he has shown you?" Visenya says.

"It could be vile sorcery, magic. Why do you only assume the worst?"

Visenya bristles at that.

"Lord Connington himself brought it here and swears by the Seven that he had seen the Wight himself. Maester Aemon and Uncle Benjen both vouch for him."

Aegon breathes to calm himself but fails.

"So you would fuck me only because father orders you to do so?" Aegon growls and pulls back his hand from her face.

"Has it occured to you that father does not do this for himself? He will have no glory in it, history may as well remember him as a madman!" Visenya hisses, "He's our father and it's our duty to obey him."

She's sitting on her bed now, facing off Aegon like a wary wolf in the dark.

"I don't want it to be like that," he says quietly and Visenya could almost laugh if she wasn't so angry.

"You think I want this at all?" she questions, "It is my duty as the daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen and a princess of the Iron Throne. And so I shall do it," Visenya pauses to take a breath and calm herself. "I don't understand what you're angry about, you can ship off to Dragonstone after the marriage is done."

"And if you're lucky I'll die like my mother," she adds quietly.

Aegon, ever the charmer, silences her with a kiss. He's quick, Visenya thinks overwhelmed. The position is awkward so Aegon breaks the kiss and gets up on the bed. He caresses her face and his eyes rake down her body, lingering on the curves where the fabric hugs her. She shudders when he peppers kisses down her neck and her breath hitches when his hands begin to wander.

"I want it to be like this," Aegon whispers and gently pushes her into the bed, pinning her under him. She's nervous and skittish, but her hands find their way under Aegon's doublet on instinct.

They're both drunk and come morning, they might regret this. But... not now.

* * *

 **Next Chapter is Rhaegar PoV and the High Sparrow begins making his move.**

 **Follow and Review if you like my work. It means a lot to me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I decided on Daenerys PoV because she'll be an important character later on. I want to keep Rhaegar a mystery as long as possible. Dany is meek but not stupid. She has been raised as a proper princess but left out of the fold, unlike Visenya.**

* * *

DAENERYS

The new High Septon trudged into the throne room, his massive belly impeding him at every step. Rhaegar acknowledged him with a nod and the High Septon carried on and on about the Seven and how a marriage of three was technically legal in the eyes of the Faith, with Aegon the Conqueror as precedence and Maegor the Cruel as an extreme example. Not a smart thing to say but bribed High Septons were not exactly the brightest of men.

The Capital has been on edge ever since the last High Septon had been found bludgeoned to death in a Streets of Silk brothel. The gruesome nature of the murder diverted attention from the crime place to some degree. The murder inspired fear within the Most Devout locked themselves inside the Sept of baelor, huddled together like sheep for safety. They were eager to put up a new scapegoat - a new High Septon - to save their own hides. But installing a new High Septon a day after the murder and four days before the wedding had Tywin Lannister's mark all over it.

And it was all but confirmed when Rhaegar announced the betrothal of his only sister to the Lannister heir. The marriage would be held in two years and Lord Tywin promises that it would be the grandest event in all the Seven Kingdoms.

Joffrey Lannister swaggered up to the dais where Daenerys stood; his green eyes appraised her body shamelessly, like a horse, like a whore. Dread began to rise from within but Daenerys managed to squash it.

 _What would Visenya do? She would never look down or squirm. She would look the Lannister child in eye and smile._

With great difficulty, Daenerys managed to maintain eye contact but the smile never came as Joffrey squeezed her hand and kissed it. Even at two and ten, two years her younger, the Lannister heir was tall and handsome, the Kingslayer come again. But there was something in his eyes, a marked similarity to Viserys' mad glint that sent shivers down her spine and not the pleasant kind.

"A pleasure, _my_ princess," Joffrey said with glee.

 _Visenya would find something witty to say that would make Joffrey red with shame and Rhaegar so very proud._

"Likewise, my lord," Daenerys replied quietly.

Joffrey had a satisfied look on his face before he strolled away to join his parents and siblings in their place at the throne room.

The court carried on but every so often, Daenerys would find the Lannister heir staring at her with rabid eyes. She felt a hand slip into her own. Although not as tall as Aegon, Visenya was still taller than Joffrey. In her barely feminine garbs, she could pass of as a man from afar, a very pretty one at that. Visenya gave Joffrey a withering glare of such disdain that it was a wonder that he did not shrink a few inches. Needless to say, his hungry eyes never wandered to Daenerys for the rest of the court proceedings.

"He's scared of you, Vis," Daenerys whispered, relieved.

"He met me on the training grounds," Visenya replied simply.

* * *

It was quite late into the night when Daenerys decided to approach Visenya for advice on her betrothal to the Lannister heir. Contrary to all expectations, Visenya got on fabulously with her half-brother and the ladies were abuzz with rumors of their escapades in the dark. It was definitely an elaborate act on Visenya's part but the ladies in court were none the wiser and mere mention of the royal couple made the young ladies swoon. Daenerys would need all the help she could get to survive the Lannister heir and who better to give it than the princess who had the Crown Prince wrapped about her fingers?

Ser Balon gave Daenerys a queer look when she all but snuck out of her room in the middle of the night. The knight said nothing but fell in step behind her as she made her way to the end of the corridor to Visenya's room.

Ser Oswell was there; a white pillar beside Ser Jaime who was sitting on the floor and marveling at his golden sword in the moonlight. The dragonbone hilt was a gift from Visenya but the blade was his own _, christened by the blood of a king_. Daenerys wondered if she could ever be close enough with Ser Balon to give him a gift on his nameday.

"Princess," the knights acknowledged her and dipped their heads, although Ser Jaime did not stand up immediately.

"I'm here to meet with my niece, sers."

In her small voice, it was more of a request than a command. _Why was she asking for permission?_

"Of course, princess," Ser Jaime stood up and run his hand through his golden mane, revealing his face in all its Lannister glory. This was not the first time she noticed but this was the first time she blushed. If Joffrey grew up to be as handsome as his uncle, she would be the envy of every highborn maidens in the Westerlands and a few in the Reach.

Ser Jaime knocked twice on the door to Visenya's chambers. After a few moments, the door creaked open and Visenya peered through.

"What is it?" She demanded, none too pleased, "Oh, Dany. You're here. Well, give me a moment." She closed the door behind her without waiting for a response. Daenerys did not have to wait for long before Visenya came back and ushered her in. Candles were lit on the table but not even embers burned in the hearth.

Visenya's chambers were identical to Rhaegar's, with swords, tomes and books strewn across the floor. The most notable addition was the wooden sculptures of various animals, notably dragons and wolves. Lord Tywin's gift, the golden statue of Visenya was placed at a corner. Aegon _, the living breathing kind_ , was on another corner, on the bed with only a blanket covering waist down.

 _Of course._

"Dany!" Aegon greeted enthusiastically, without even the grace to blush. Daenerys blushed enough for both of them.

"Egg…" Daenerys responded, struggling to look her undressed nephew in the eye.

Visenya brought a chair for Daenerys and sat up on the table. Her nightgown was a simple white fabric, in sharp contrast to the black laced silks that Rhaenys wore to bed.

"Is that about the lion cub?" Visenya asked when Daenerys could not find the words to ask the question. _What exactly did she come here for?_

"Yes," she replied in a small voice.

"Dany, Dany, _Dany_ ," Aegon cut in with playful condescendence, "Even I have more experience seducing men than my half-sister here. You should be asking me!"

Visenya barked an unladylike laughter.

"Like how you charmed Harold Hardyng?" Visenya sighs at Aegon and turns to Daenerys, "This good for nothing prince here goes for the sister Elys. Beds her too. Thank the gods, she isn't an Arryn yet. There would be hell to pay."

"Enchant the sister and estrange the brother? That sounds like Aegon alright," Daenerys said with a smile.

"Ugh, shut it. I just happened to smile in the general direction of his sister. It's not my fault, the lass has never seen a true stud before," Aegon replies with a smirk.

Visenya scoffs. "You're lucky Harold did not challenge you to a duel. He'd make short work of you and _your spear_ ," Visenya smirks back, clearly amused at some inside joke between the two. Aegon blushes and grumbles at the same time.

"Harold is just a landed knight. He's the heir to the heir at best. I don't see why it matters."

"Even if Robert Arryn manages to survive till winter - which he most likely will not - Harold will be the one with command over the Valemen. He's friends with most of the Vale heirs and squired for Lord Royce, a man of honor if there ever was one. Harold is the key to the Vale and it is in our best interest to have him in our camp."

" _Seven hells!_ This isn't a war council!" Aegon grumbled and got up from bed, wrapping the blanket around his waist. He picked up his clothes and walked off towards the door.

"If only Aegon was half as smart as he think he is," Visenya sighed.

"I heard that!" Aegon shouted from beyond the door.

"You're supposed to!" Visenya shouted back. With a final grunt Aegon closed the door behind him and left.

Visenya left the table and sat down on the couch before the hearth and invited Daenerys to do the same. She rested her head on Daenerys' lap, closed her eyes and stifled a yawn. On closer inspection, Visenya's lips were red and swollen and her hair smelled of pinewood and sweat.

"You're too strict with him, Vis. He's a charmer and he'll win over the lords in his own time."

"Charm will do him no good, Dany. Aegon the Unlikely was charming, _Aerys_ was charming. It takes an Aegon to rule, not an Egg. Father would have gladly turned in his crown for a maester's chain just as I would forfeit King's Landing for Winterfell. But we all have our roles to play."

"Not everyone is like you and Rhaegar!" Daenerys replies a little to hotly.

" _My, my._ " Visenya replies with an amused smile, "You need not envy our brooding and moping, truly. And I'm not asking Aegon to brood his days away, hunched over tomes and scrolls."

Visenya sighs and shakes her head.

"Aegon will do what he must. I'll make sure of it. Now, back to the Lannisters - Joffrey Lannister will stay in King's Landing for the next two years and you shall wed after you're sixteenth nameday."

Two years of hungry green eyes and tea with Lord Tywin and the Lannisters. Just her luck.

"Rhaegar said nothing of such arrangements in court."

"This was decided after the court. Lord Tywin wants to parade his heir in the Capital as a constant reminder of the betrothal. He believes we will break the betrothal after we settle matters with the Faith."

"Will you?" Daenerys asked, hating how hopeful she sounded.

"I'm sorry, Dany, the marriage but happen. But there is nothing to be worried about, truly. Lord Tywin knows the worth of a Targaryen princess and you will be treated according to your station." Visenya said, slightly remorseful, "There's also the matter of the bride price. Lord Tywin will provide for the restoration of Summerhall in the next two years while I procure your dowry: a new Lannister fleet to replace the fleet burnt down by the Ironborn."

It was naive to think that the two years wait was for Daenerys' own benefit.

Daenerys did not know overmuch about Rhaegar's or Visenya's political maneuvering but one of the conditions of the marriage between Viserys and Margaery Tyrell was the restoration of Summerhall with Tyrell gold. But that plan fell through since Viserys himself was opposed to the restoration. He wanted to hold on to his title of Prince of Dragonstone as long as possible. But with Aegon back, Viserys would have to contend himself with Summerhall.

"But Summerhall is not for Viserys," Visenya said smilingly, as if reading her thoughts, "It's for me. Summerhall shall be my seat as princess consort. I'll fly the Blackfyre banners that Viserys has so kindly gifted me. It will be quite a sight, no?"

"Is it really alright for you to leave King's Landing without Aegon?" Daenerys asked, even so late at night, her mind was completely engrossed in the politics of the Crown, something she rarely got a chance to partake in.

"I have work to do in the Stormlands. Besides, it doesn't matter who stays with Aegon, Dany. All that matters is who bears his firstborn son," Visenya replied with a cunning smile.

 _So that's why…_

This was sound advice. She did not need to love, like or even get along with Joffrey Lannister. All that matters is bearing his son, Lord Tywin's coveted Lannister lordling with dragonblood. All she needed was Lord Tywin's respect.

"Lady of Casterly Rock doesn't seem so bad," Daenerys replied with a sly smile, feeling more confident than ever before.

"Sweetsleep, sweetsleep. One whiff for a night, dark and deep. Sweetsleep, sweetsleep. Three to make the mothers weep," Visenya sings her morbid melody and returns the smile.

* * *

 **Sweetsleep is a potion that can be used as a poison in large doses. The poem is made up.**

 **Harold Hardyng has a sister for plot reasons.**

 **Sorry if this chapter was disappointing. I rewrote it multiple times, but I'm still not completely satisfied. The next one will be a long one about the tourney from Aegon PoV, focusing on Visenya's history and Aegon's confrontation with Rhaenys.**


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